


Where Metal Meets Flesh

by wintersnow999



Series: Scientists Are People Too (The Glass Scientists Short Stories feat. The Lodgers) [3]
Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Experimentation, Gen, I have homework to do but why do that when I could do tHIS, Injury, Torture, angsty backstory again dammit, gonna try to keep the tag warnings to a minimum because spoilers but just warning y'all, yep I can't write happy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14204715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersnow999/pseuds/wintersnow999
Summary: It's amazing how a single particularly gross day can bring out one's deepest secrets. Even when one isn't... completely honest when telling people.





	Where Metal Meets Flesh

It was raining, and Anthony Sinnett felt _gross_.

There wasn’t really any other appropriate word for this emotion, he reflected, as he stared out the window, curled up in one of the many mismatched armchairs scattered around the Society (probably courtesy of Mrs. Cantilupe), and shrouded in two layers of blanket. He just felt _gross,_ all the way down to his toes and all the way back up again.

Plain _gross._

The warmth from the crackling fireplace next to him wasn’t helping to dispel the gloomy chill radiating through the whole Society. Misters Archer and Pennebrygg had been trying to work on a project, sitting at a table in the opposite side of the room, but they had given up several hours ago and were now just sitting around, Pennebrygg dozing off with his fluffy head propped up on one gloved hand, Archer with an unread book in his lap that he was completely ignoring. It was just the kind of day in which creativity ran to a complete halt.

Besides, the rain was the kind that just _flopped_ out of the sky, like it lacked the energy to do things, like fall interestingly, or make fun sounds on the roof, or _anything_.

_Groooosss._

He brought one hand up to his cheeks, rubbing the ache out of the fine row of dots under his eyes. The chill of the rain somehow managed to wiggle its way under one’s skin and pull out all the bad past feelings, throwing them into a bag and giving them a big shake and throwing them like dice so they landed all over your face.

He flapped the thought out of the way, grimacing. He was still working on his metaphors. They weren’t important. What _was_ important, though, was-

_Ow._

The sharp prick of a phantom pain struck through the mechanical fingers of his left hand and he inhaled sharply, rubbing his arm just above where metal met flesh. Archer looked over with concern, eyes asking a question. Sinnett smiled faintly back, indicating that he was fine, but looked away to hide his discomfort. His arm hadn't hurt in weeks- maybe it was the lousy atmosphere bringing it on.

Almost unconsciously, he touched one hand to his face again. He told everyone who asked that they were just freckles, but he knew if anyone bothered to look closely they would see that the uniformity wasn't natural.

Sinnett was the kind of guy who loved being around other people, and other people loved to be around him. It was just… hard to be, when…

“You all right, Sinnett?”

Saved by the scientist. Sinnett turned around to where Miss Ito was leaning over the back of his armchair, her brow furrowed.

Sinnett's weary smile tensed. As friendly as Ito was, her area of science had always been one that flashed warning lights at him.

Well, not always. Always, since his arm had been removed. Always, since the experiments… if you could call them that.

Ito didn't know, and it wasn't her fault. She had her area of science, which wasn't bad on its own… it was just the needle part. The part with the chemicals, and the gases, and _eugh…_

It was hard to forget things, especially when some of those things had resulted in the loss of a limb, and a loss of his trust.

“It's like everyone's lost motivation. Even Tweedy's just sitting around upstairs doing nothing, and you know how much he loves bad weather.” The ever-observant neoalchemist narrowed her eyes. “Is it just the weather, or is there something I should be worried about?”

“Nothing,” Sinnett managed. He took a deep breath, and let it out again, looking away. “Nothing at all.”

_(the masked man coming towards him with a needle)_

“You're touching your arm again,” Ito deadpanned. “You do that when you're lying.”

Sinnett dropped his right hand from his mechanized left, flushing. He hadn't noticed that.

( _This won't hurt a bit, don't you worry)_

Ito's gaze softened, and she grinned. “‘Tony, if there's something wrong, we're all friends here, you can speak up.”

“Really, I'm all right,” Sinnett insisted, making an effort not to run his fingers over his prosthetic again.

_(screams and the smell of rotting meat)_

Ito didn't look convinced. “Well, if you say so. If you need something, though, ask for it. No one's going to judge you.” The tall scientist pushed off the back of the armchair and left the room. Archer raised an eyebrow curiously at the redhead, who looked down, falling silent.

* * *

Sinnett threw his less-damaged shoulder hard against the door, tear tracks cutting lines down cheeks covered with dirt, ash and blood. It shuddered in its frame, but wouldn't open. A short, desperate cry burst through his gritted teeth as he turned his back to the door, facing down his pursuer and looking him in the hooded yellow eyes. He wrapped the dirty spare shirt tighter around his left arm, ignoring the pain as well as he could.

“What do you want with me?” Sinnett tried to yell, but his voice was nothing more than a hollow whisper. The yellow-eyed man grinned. In one hand he was holding Sinnett's prize, the flamethrower he had worked on for so many years. In the other was a hunter’s dart gun.

“Come back, Anthony,” he called, showing broken grey teeth. “I'm not finished with you yet.”

The lines of tiny round scars under Sinnett’s eyes burned and stung from the chemicals injected into the skin, sadistic attempts at painkillers and worse. The yellow-eyed man had used the flamethrower, _his_ _flamethrower,_ to burn Sinnett's arm again and again, trying to find a way to combine chemicals and fire to control his half-alive animal… things.

“You're a monster!” Sinnett screamed, making even less sound than before. He flung himself against the door again, and it rattled wildly, but stayed firmly locked. The yellow-eyed man chuckled emptily and walked forward, leveling the gun directly at Sinnett's head.

“Anthony…”

“What? Haven't you hurt me enough? What else do you want with me? What have I done to _you!?”_

“Sinnett! Sinnett?”

 _“You killed Jessica!_ Why should I go with you? You killed Jessica, you murdered her, you, you…”

“Sinnett, mate… is he all right? Is he awake?”

Sinnett gave a panicked yell and shot upright, sweating. He was on the floor by the armchair, rain still falling on the windows, fireplace still crackling. Pennebrygg was kneeling by his feet, looking scared. Not far away, Archer had a piece of cloth pressed to one cheek, while Ito was fumbling with one of the bottles at her waist.

“You okay, ‘Tony?” Pennebrygg asked as soon as Sinnett opened his eyes. Archer looked relieved that his friend was awake, but grinned ruefully. “Remind me to never get in a fistfight with you, mate. That was a mean right hook.”

“What…?” whispered Sinnett, looking from one Lodger to the next.

“You punched him in your sleep, Sinnett,” Ito explained. “You were yelling, trying to fight us all off.” She dripped something from one bottle into the next and gave it a shake. “Nightmare?” Sinnett nodded mutely.

Ito inspected her mixture and uncorked it, holding it out towards the redhead sitting on the floor, who jumped immediately backwards into Pennebrygg. The automatonomist caught him lightly. “Whoa there. What’s going on?”

Sinnett breathed deeply in, then out. “I’m- I’m sorry I never told you all earlier. I just- have these crazy dreams sometimes, and I know they’re just dreams, but, you know… they’re, well…”

“Scary?” Pennebrygg asked gently. Sinnett shut his mouth tightly and nodded. “As silly as it sounds, sometimes I’m not sure if they’re real or not. They feel like they really happened.”

Archer looked at him thoughtfully, gaze landing on Sinnett’s missing arm, but nodded slowly.

“You never told us how you really lost your arm,” Ito said quietly. “If you don't want to, I don't want to make you feel like you have to, but maybe we can help.”

“I don't remember it, not really, but… I had a sister, named-”

“Jessica,” finished Ito. “You called her name.”

Sinnett nodded and blushed. “Jessica. You'll notice that I said 'had’.” He fell silent for a moment. “There- was an accident, and we… we lost her. The same accident lost me my hand.” He wiggled the mechanical fingers ruefully.

“Sorry, mate,” Pennebrygg said sincerely, patting him lightly on the shoulder and standing up. “I'm off, but if you need anything, I'll be in my lab.” Archer and Ito, after making sure the pyrologist was definitely all right, took their leaves, and Sinnett was left alone in front of the fireplace with Ito’s bottle of potion sitting on the floor.

He waited until their footsteps had faded into the distance before he scooped up the bottle, sighing, and poured it into the fireplace. It turned the flames golden for a brief second before vanishing without a trace.

They didn't need to know the truth, and sometimes lying was for the better of everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> someone help by kicking writer's block in the arse for me please I would be forever grateful
> 
> anyway happy reading y'all


End file.
